She gave out a loud scream as a big handclosed over her shoulder, stopping her in mid-stride.She heard hergarment tear as he twisted her roughly in his arms.
“I meant you no harm, lass.”
“You think me daft?”Her eyes flashed as shestruggled to break free.“Once you have killed the others, you willsee there are no witnesses to your crime.”
“I mean no harm to those who dwell here.Icome in peace to ask a favor of the Gordon.”
“Oh, aye.And that is why you sneak aroundthe scullery like a thief.”
“My mission is one of peace.But I must gaintheir attention before I can gain their ear.”
His words were soft.Soft and clever.Shewould not be fooled by the look of sincerity in those eyes.“Liar!”
In their struggles his hand encountered thesoftness of her breast.Though small and slender, her figure wasundeniably womanly.He glanced down and saw the flush upon hercheeks.A moment later he gave out a yelp of pain when her teethsank into his hand.When he jerked his hand away, his blood stainedthe front of her gown.
“Damn you, wench.Will you not listen toreason?I swear to you...”The rest of his words died in his throatwhen he glanced down and saw that the lass was holding his dirk inher hand.
She leaped forward, the knife aimed at hisheart.In one quick motion he caught her hand and wrenched theknife free.It clattered to the floor at their feet.
With a vicious oath he dragged her roughlyinto his arms, twisting her hands behind her in a painfulgrasp.
“Now you will listen and heed my words,” hesnarled through clenched teeth.“Jamie MacDonald is a man of hisword.I come here in peace.”
“Jamie MacDonald?The HeartlessMacDonald?”
He saw the fear leap into her eyes at themention of his name.So she had heard of him.All the better.Atleast now she would offer no more resistance.
“Aye.Heartless am I in battle.”He loweredhis head until his lips were inches from hers.His eyes narrowedfractionally.“Do not cross swords with me again, lass, or you willfeel the sting of my anger.”
As he lifted his head he heard the sound ofswords being unsheathed.Before he could turn he felt the sharppoint of a blade against his back, slicing through his flesh.Painripped through him.
A voice low with fury said, “Release thewoman.”
Had this been war, Jamie would have pulled adirk from his boot and held the blade to the female’s throat untilhe either made good his escape or disarmed his enemy.It would befar easier to cross swords with a hundred unreasonable Highlandersthan to try to reason with them.But reason he must, if he was tokeep his promise to Brice Campbell.Jamie lifted his hands to showthat he did not intend to draw his sword.As he turned, the lassfled his arms and hurried to stand with the five men who facedhim.
They stood in a semicircle, swords liftedmenacingly.All bore a striking resemblance to the old man whostood in their midst.
“I demand the right to fight this lout bymyself,” the tallest one said.
“Nay, Donald.”A stocky, bearded lad put outhis hand to delay his brother’s progress.“As eldest son I claimthe right.”
“You may both fight me if you wish, after Itell you my reason for coming here.”Jamie reached a hand to hiswaist and instantly another sword tip pierced his hand, unleashinga river of blood.Ignoring the pain, he unstrapped his scabbard andlet it drop to the floor, as further proof that he did not wish todo battle.
“I do not trust him,” the youngest said.
“Nor do I.”The old man strode closer,peering at the stranger.“Who are you?State your name and thenature of your business before we relieve you of your life.”
Jamie stood silently, eyeing the old man.This had been a mistake.These warriors were itching for a fight.They would never give him the time to relate all that he hadplanned to tell them.
“He is Jamie MacDonald,” the lass saidsoftly.
“The Heartless MacDonald?”The old man pausedand turned toward his daughter, seeing for the first time that hergown was torn and bloody.His eyes narrowed.“God in heaven.He hasharmed you, lass.I will cut out his heart.”
With a cry of fury he whirled and aimed hissword at Jamie’s heart.“May you burn in hell for inflicting painupon my daughter.”
Daughter?Jamie glanced from the old man tothe fiery lass.His eyes widened.Aye.How could he have missed it?The resemblance was there in the wide brow, in the finely chiseledlips.But who would have thought a bloody Highlander could producesuch a work of perfection?
There would be no reasoning with the Gordonsnow.Jamie stood very still, prepared to meet his fate at the handsof this righteous old Highland warrior.He had made errors injudgment before, but never one that had so surely sealed hisfate.
